


I Do Believe It's Me

by one_day_sooner



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Parallel Universes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 22:57:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/603007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_day_sooner/pseuds/one_day_sooner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I promise you, Shawsy, in any possible alternate universe, Kaner and Tazer are joined at the hip." Sharpy snorted, clapping the younger man on the back. </p><p>(In which Kaner discovers there are in fact alternate universes)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Do Believe It's Me

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Morrissey's "All You Need Is Me". Intro from/show being referenced by Drunk!Shawsy is The Big Bang Theory's "The Gothowitz Deviation".

Penny: Morning, Sheldon. Come dance with me.

Sheldon: No.

Penny: Why not?

Sheldon: Penny, while I subscribe to the many worlds theory which posits the existence of an infinite number of Sheldons in an infinite number of universes, I assure you that in none of them am I dancing.

Penny: Are you fun in any of them?

Sheldon: The math would suggest that in a few I’m a clown made of candy. But I don’t dance.

The Big Bang Theory, Season 3, Episode 3 – The Gothowitz Deviation  
******

"So the babe is like 'Are you ever any fun?' Or something like that and the main nerd was like 'I'm a clown made of candy in another universe,' and everyone laughed." Shawsy slurred, a happily drunk recollection of a clip of a TV show rerun he'd seen in Anaheim before his roommate clicked the set off. "Dude. Are there any universes where Kaner and Tazer aren't always together?" He asked, lifting his head from Sharpy's shoulder and peering at the two in question. 

Sharpy barked out a laugh and Hossa barely managed to not spit his drink over the table. To his credit, Patrick grinned sleepily and shrugged, while Johnny looked perfectly stricken, as though somehow the drunk boy had guessed. 

"I promise you, Shawsy, in any possible alternate universe, Kaner and Tazer are joined at the hip." Sharpy snorted, clapping the younger man on the back. "Come on guys. We already closed down this joint. Lets get home."

Sharpy and Hoss put Shawsy in a cab, Hoss pouring himself in after they'd settled the boy in, and Sharpy hailed another to take him back the other way towards his own home and his wife. 

Patrick and Johnny settled the tab and called for a taxi to take them back towards Johnny's place. "You ever think about that shit, man? If there's more of us somewhere else?" Patrick asked, looking up at Johnny with hazy blue eyes. 

"Naw. Because even if there were other universes? We're in this one together, playing hockey and kicking ass. I don't need anything else." 

"You don't need anything else, huh? There goes the blowjob I was gonna give you once we got home."

"You're a cocktease, Kaner. A fucking cocktease. You're lucky I love you."

"I know. But seriously I can't wait to get to bed. The Oilers have amped up this offseason and we need to be ready."

"Maybe we're in an alternate universe. My Kaner is never this responsible."

"Fuck off Johnny. Lets just get home."

*************

Patrick woke up the next morning happily curled into Johnny's arms, burrowed against his strong chest. He grumbled slightly and opened his eyes, peering at the clock that announced the time in perky neon green. "Fucking shit baby, we gotta get going. We have our skate in forty five minutes."

"Shit Patrick, what time is it?" Johnny mumbled, eyes still firmly shut and arms tight around Patrick's back. 

"Nine fifteen. Q wanted us there early for preseason press."

"Ugh babe. We don't have to leave til three. It's an evening shoot this time. And who's Q? We're working with Veronique and Maxime today, something about a Dior collection." 

Patrick sat up and blinked, looking down at Johnny's sleepy face. There was something different, something carefully groomed about Johnny's eyebrows, the hairless skin of his chest, the softer lines of his arms, muscles less defined and body unscarred. He looked around the room, his eyes falling on a framed poster sized photo of Johnny in nothing but a low slung pair of boxer briefs, his eyes closed in pleasure and arms around a sex-ruffled boy with clear, smooth skin and long curls framing his upturned face, mouth pressed to Johnny's jaw. At the bottom of the page was a tiny "Dolce & Gabbana, Spring 2009."

There were copies of Vogue on the nightstand, Vanity Fair on the coffee table and a closet full of designer clothes in a size that looked long enough for Johnny, but that he would never be able to wear with his hockey ass. Patrick went into the bathroom to wash his face, gasping softly when he recognized the face in the poster as his own, clear and smooth, his curls long and soft to the touch. He looked at his own body then, his muscled chest less prominent and his own body hair groomed or gone, depending on the area. He considered the way his morning erection looked with the trim he had, and decided it wasn't all bad, even though, okay he wasn't in hockey player condition anymore apparently. But Johnny had mentioned a shoot so he gamely trooped back into the bedroom to pounce on his boyfriend and get more information, earning a "Fuck off!" and a shove off the bed. 

Patrick opened the laptop on the table and was greeted with one of Johnny's meticulous spreadsheets, detailing assignments for the week. That day was highlighted, an afternoon blocked out in green and reading "DG Winter '13.  
Millennium Park, 3:00  
MUAH: Veronique  
Photographer: Maxime  
Pat+Johnny <3"

He and Johnny had a photo shoot that afternoon, apparently, and okay. This, Patrick could deal with, given how he had taken to accepting shit since Johnny was a hard headed freak of nature. He thought back to the night before, how he had been drinking with the guys and thinking how great it would be to know if there were other universes out there since Shawsy was rambling about some show he saw one time in California. That had to be it. This was an alternate universe where he and Johnny were fashion models and somehow still together, so score one for the drunk rookie and his theory that they were always a two for one deal. Patrick laughed a little hysterically and began to mentally panic. He had no clue how to do this model junk. Even in his team photos he was forced into a semblance of a respectable guy and still looked like a little bit of a creep. 

He remembered reading an article once that Jackie had sent him about a band she'd become obsessed with, and how the singer had said she could do anything as long as the guitarist was with her. He'd thought as he read it that he and Johnny had that kind of relationship, that ability to balance and level each other out, support wordlessly and endlessly. Johnny would help him. He knew that for sure, so with a shaky breath, he promised himself to just enjoy the moment. 

******

They showed up to Millennium Park at two forty five, Johnny whining about how they weren't even expected until closer to four anyway. Patrick had shrugged and smiled, reminding him that he'd said Veronique loved his hair, and would spend a lot of time just playing with the bouncy blonde curls. 

Before long, Johnny was up, sending alternating sultry and bored looks at the camera, wearing a navy pea coat and pale blue shirt, his body stretched out on a bench with a terribly skinny girl in a ridiculously puffed coat on the arm of it, her ankles crossed over the top of her fur trimmed booties. She dangled a handbag listlessly off her finger and stared at Johnny with steely grey eyes, her scarf wrapped artfully around her throat. After dozens of shots with barely a shift or a breath, the photographer yelled "Perfect as always, Jon, Deliah. You're good to go after you drop that off at wardrobe." 

Patrick walked on set in a deep green scarf, his black knit cap pulled down over his ears. He was bare chested, his own black coat open and his pants low slung and skintight. The girl he was paired with wore a tiny black skirt and a partially opened fur coat paired with sky high stilettos that she wobbled dangerously in, Patrick catching her neatly around the waist before she took a tumble on the icy walkway. "Okay guys, just have fun. Patrick, Miranda, remember you're the playful face of this campaign. We're showcasing sexy and fun, but upscale, okay?" The photographer snapped a few frames of Patrick supporting the slim southern beauty, then let them rearrange themselves, the girl holding a faux snowball in her luxuriously gloved hands and Patrick ducking slightly behind a light pole. They moved on to closer pictures, seemingly about to kiss under the streetlight, her handbag and gloves in focus around his neck on a few shots, then his watch and gloved hands framing her tiny waist. When the photographer called a wrap, Patrick let go, startled to feel Johnny's intense stare burning into him. He looked up, prepared to hear the usual "You were great but you can be better" speech, and was nearly knocked over into a bush when Johnny pulled him in and kissed him, rough and needy and yeah. There was his Johnny all right. 

"I love when you do that." He growled, his hands sliding under the coat and resting hot against Patrick's back. "The way you take the lead in a shoot like you were born on a set. Gorgeous." Johnny pulled him close, kissing him again. "Let's get you to wardrobe so we can go home. I want you all for me tonight, fuck Tommy's party." 

Patrick nodded and let Johnny lead him off to another tent, hand in hand and eager for that night. 

*************

Patrick woke up the next morning feeling Johnny's hips flush against his ass. He reached down, feeling for his cock, the arousal of a morning that was promising to be full of slow lazy kisses and traded blowjobs starting to wake him. 

"Johnny fuck! Where's my dick?!" He yelped, slapping a hand over his mouth at the higher pitch of his voice. He looked down and saw a pair of firm, full breasts, the curl of Johnny's hand protective around his hip, fingers pressing into soft curve instead of firm muscle.

"I took it off you last night. You were totally out after you fucked me, baby, and I know the straps bug you if they're on too long," Johnny kissed his (her?) shoulder and pulled Pat closer. "Seriously Trishie, I told you you'd get too attached to that thing if we used it too often. Even if you're mind blowing when you fuck me slow and deep like you did last night."

And damn it all this was another one of Shawsy's alternate universes. It had to be since he didn't spontaneously switch sexes like a fish or something. "What are we doing today babe?" He asked, trying to get a feel for the situation he was plopped into before it turned into morning sex, his body already reacting to Johnny's so close and obviously aroused.

"You tell me. You're my secretary." 

******

Office work was just as boring as Patrick imagined it would be. He would occasionally grab coffee for Johnny, taking it in and stealing a kiss or two, or reminding him he has a meeting with the owner of Carter Publishing at two, and yes she would sit in and take minutes and notes on the meeting. 

It was even more boring than office work, since the only joy came from making faces at Jeff Carter's secretary Michelle, who was doing her best not to crack up with laughter. Pat left the meeting in high spirits, walking toward the break room for her own coffee when she heard it. 

"Trish is such a bitch."

"She's not evil or anything, you know. She's nice to me."

"Please. She's fucking the boss to get the promotion you know Elena should get. She's a backstabbing cunt. I hate her." 

"She is not. Is she? Holy shit, I didn't think she would do something that low. I think I'll cancel on our planned night out with her."

"Good. Lets go get drinks at the new bar on Eighth instead. And don't tell Andi Shaw. She looks up to Trish and I won't have her little spy in our group."

Pat took a shaky breath and went in to the break room, bobbing along like she hasn't heard the whole exchange. "Hi ladies, what's up?" She asked, grabbing the coffee pot and frowning at the nearly empty decanter. She set about making a new pot and turned to lean on the counter as she waited for it to brew. 

"Oh, we were just talking about the promotion you're probably going to get. You do some amazing work for the company, you know. The boss absolutely loves your design ideas."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm happy as his secretary. Elena should get the job and I'm almost sure she will. Not one person is nearly as qualified." 

"Qualifications don't mean anything, Trish and you know that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Pat asked, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth. 

"I think you know. Come on Kristen, we have to finalize the Crew ads."

******

Patrick looked all around the condo, his clothes thrown in the hamper and hung in the closet with Johnny's, pictures of them on beaches and in the snow all over the place, vacations and family visits mixed together. In every picture they were close, leaning in toward each other as though the thought of being an inch apart was painful. 

There was a photo of Patrick being lifted by the waist to put the star on top of a Christmas tree, Johnny laughing and Pat looking so in love it hurt. He picked up the picture and was about to cry with sheer want when Jon came in, taking it from him. "Our first Christmas. Remember that? When our parents came over because they thought we'd burn the place down trying to open presents by the fireplace?"

Pat nodded, feeling that moment come back with Johnny's warm words and presence next to him. "I remember..." She swallowed, trying to even her voice, "I remember thinking I could spend every Christmas for the rest of our lives like that."

Johnny's eyes went darker at the words, his voice catching as he whispered "I love you," into her ear, "I always will."

He wrapped himself around her, pressed to her back and nuzzled her ear. He fumbled around behind Patrick and slipped something cool and heavy onto the third finger on Pat's left hand. "Will you marry me? Give me that Christmas every day of our lives?"

"Yes. God, Johnny. Yes." Pat whispered back, tears pricking his eyes at how badly he wanted his own Johnny to ask that question one day. 

*************

"Come on Kaner. We're gonna be late for skate then Q's gonna own our balls. I really don't want that."

"Fuck Tazer what time is it?"

"Nine thirty. We have to be there in fifteen minutes. What have you done to me? I'm running late for everything now." Johnny bitched, his voice fond. Patrick laughed, glad to have his Johnny back, be back in their Chicago bedroom, the fucking Team Canada jersey signed by Johnny's teammates and framed with his gold medal hung on the wall right next to Patrick's Team USA one. "Do we have time for a shake?"

******

They missed the pre skate press that Q wanted them in for, but Johnny apologized and promised to help out at a charity event later, and he'd answer all questions there, satisfying the coach for the moment. They skated hard, preseason or not, and in the locker room, nearly collapsed on the benches in front of their lockers. Patrick looked over at Shawsy and grinned, thinking that the kid would be a great prank mate against Sharpy if he needed one. 

After the team was dressed and ready to leave, Tazer gave Pat's hand a quick squeeze and announced they'd all have to head down to Turning Maple Marketing for team photos and a charity event afterward. 

As they entered the building, a beautiful, stacked blonde with wild curls came up and shook their hands, a large diamond ring with accents of the same watery blue as her eyes on her finger. "Hi I'm Trish, I'll take you up to the photography department. Maxime just got the proofs from his latest shoot in the park, and it is perfection! You'll absolutely love him."

**Author's Note:**

> The band referenced is Rilo Kiley, and Jenny Lewis actually said about Blake that they could do anything, even learn to be firefighters on the fly if they were together. I can't find the interview though. :(


End file.
